No More Bloody Secrets
by realityisnoplacetolive
Summary: How long can Dan keep his supernatural secret from his boyfriend?


**A/N:** **Co-written with awesomesockes** (and by co-written, I mean she had the ideas and cracked the whip from her side of the sofa while I wrote all the words, and then we fought over who should get to post it on their blog to the point that she nearly kicked me out of the house, but that's just the price to pay for art, kids) I STILL WAN TIT cecily shhh. Also thanks to ficster28 for beta-reading.

 **Warnings:** None really, except for ridiculousness and supernatural themes.

 **Disclaimer:** The following is a completely and utterly fictitious account of an imaginary situation for recreational use only. Not intended as a substitute for imagining others complexly. Please idolise responsibly.

 **Summary:** Happy Halloween!

* * *

"Dan?"

"What?"

"We need to talk."

"What about?"

"About these dental bills you're racking up." Phil held up a stack of papers, raising his eyebrows to his friend.

"Oh." Dan snatched the papers from Phil's hands and quickly folded them in half. "Those. It's nothing, I-I just needed to get some work done."

"Eight hundred pounds is not nothing," Phil argued. "Why would you even need four procedures in four months? What's wrong with your teeth?"

"Er… I haven't been flossing regularly?"

"These are from a private dental surgery for 'cosmetic tooth grinding' on your 'upper left and right canines'. I don't understand… Why would you need this? And then why would you hide this?"

Phil reached his hand out to take the papers back, but Dan yanked them out of his reach, simultaneously bearing his teeth and letting out a sharp hissing sound.

Phil rolled his eyes. "And I'm getting really tired of the hissing, Dan," he said irritably. "Use your words."

"I don't hiss," Dan scowled.

"You just did it!" Phil defended. "Every time you're angry, you hiss at me."

Dan hissed, then quickly changed his expression back to normal. "I do not."

"You just did it again!" Phil exclaimed in frustration.

"Did not."

"I'm standing right here. I literally just heard you hiss."

"Whatever." Dan rolled his eyes and flipped his long black cape over his shoulder. "We can't have a civilised argument if you're going to be accusing me of things I don't do. This is exhausting—I'm going to take a nap before dinner."

Dan turned and started walking off to his room, but Phil followed him down the hallway. "Fine," he said, "but when you wake up, we're going to talk about this."

"We have the money, Phil," Dan said, climbing into his oddly shaped bed. A few months ago, Dan had ditched his standard full-size bed for a longer, more fitted, enclosed model which inexplicably gave Phil the creeps. "It's not like we can't afford it."

"It's not about the money," Phil said exasperatedly. "It's about keeping secrets from each other."

"We'll talk later," Dan decided before laying down flat on his back and shutting the lid over himself with a bang.

xxx

Phil stood in the kitchen, heating a jar of pasta sauce on the stovetop while Dan slept, trying to figure out what the hell had gone wrong between them.

Their arguments had been growing more and more frequent, and over the dumbest things sometimes. Like on Easter, when he'd invited Dan back up north with him to visit his family and Phil's grandmother had requested that they'd all go to church together. Dan had flat out refused to step into the building, taking one look at the large crucifix in the foyer and screaming something about an all-over burning sensation before sprinting off into the woods. That had been difficult to explain to his poor old Nan.

He sighed and added pasta to the boiling pot of water on the stove. Maybe he shouldn't be so hard on Dan, Phil thought. Maybe he was ill or something. After all, he was getting kind of pale-looking and was sleeping during the day a lot, though that could probably be explained by the fact that Dan had begun only going out after sundown. And then there was the forgetfulness. Forgetting your keys every once in a while was understandable, but it'd gotten to the point where Dan would just stand outside the apartment—sometimes for hours—until Phil let him in, almost as if he was incapable of entering without an invitation.

He was pushed out of his thoughts by a quiet voice from behind him. "Hey," Dan said, glancing down at his feet while his fingers played with the end of his cape.

"Hey," Phil replied. "Dinner's almost ready if you want to set the table."

Dan nodded and moved towards the cabinet. "Er, about before…" he began, getting out two plates.

"It's alright," Phil said. He moved to the fridge to take out the salad dressings—italian vinaigrette for himself and Dan's massive bottle of homemade French dressing, marked 'FOR DAN ONLY'. "You were tired. We all have our bad days."

"I shouldn't have snapped at you though. I'm sorry." Dan pulled out his carton of tomato juice, also marked 'FOR DAN ONLY' in large black letters, and poured himself a glass. "What do you want to drink?"

"Water's fine. And don't think about it—it's okay." Phil tossed Dan his similarly labeled bottle of ketchup, which he caught. "Ready to eat?"

Dan took a big sip of his juice before smiling gratefully. "God yes. I'm so hungry I could drink—er, I mean _eat_ a cow." He grinned a little nervously, revealing his recently softened canine teeth. If Phil didn't know any better, he'd have sworn they were already a bit pointier than they'd been a few hours ago.

The two sat down at the table. Dan quickly drowned his few leaves of salad in bright red dressing while Phil dished up the pasta. "So Louise invited us over this Sunday…" he began cautiously. "I told her we'd come."

"Hm," Dan hummed, squirting what Phil considered to be ungodly amounts of ketchup onto his pasta. "What time?"

Phil grimaced at the sight, but he'd long ago given up questioning his boyfriend's strange eating habits. "Two o'clock," he replied.

Dan frowned halfway between bringing a bite to his mouth. "She can't do any later? Like after eight maybe?"

"I don't think so. It's a school night and she needs to get Darcy up early the next day." He held out a plate. "Garlic bread?"

Whipping his cape over his face in a movement which almost sent the strawberry-scented candles they were burning flying (Phil had had to find something to cover up that awful metallic smell that seemed to appear every time they ate dinner), Dan jumped back from the bread and let out a loud hiss.

"Enough with the hissing already!" Phil exclaimed.

"Don't go waving that in my face then!" he shot back. "You know I'm allergic."

"Well I forget sometimes. And I don't get it—you used to love garlic. What's going on with you lately?" Phil said exasperatedly.

"I guess my tastes have just changed."

"Yeah, I guess that explains why you never wear the birthday gift I got you…" Phil muttered under his breath. It was a low blow to bring that up, and Phil knew it, but annoyance had gotten the better of him.

Dan wrinkled up his nose in confusion. "You mean the earrings?"

"Yes! They were sterling silver and really expensive, and you'd been talking about how much you'd wanted them for weeks, but you've barely even touched them since I gave them to you."

"Right. And there's a really good explanation for that, but—"

"And then there's your sudden affinity for black capes," Phil went on.

"They're very in this season."

"You took down all the mirrors in the house."

"Beauty isn't everything, Phil."

"You don't eat anything unless it's drowning in ketchup."

"Oh so this is just 'point out all Dan's personal flaws' day, is it?" he said sarcastically.

"And don't think I haven't noticed the fact that you're sleeping in a coffin."

Dan rolled his eyes. "It's not a coffin. It's a special orthopedic bed frame to help correct my mild scoliosis. We've discussed this."

"Dan! Enough with the lies! Just admit it already!" Phil exclaimed, jumping up away from the table. His eyes were wild, like he couldn't decide whether to hit his boyfriend or burst into tears. "You're having an affair!"

For a moment, there was silence—Phil breathing heavily and Dan just staring back with his mouth open. Then suddenly, Dan burst out laughing.

"You think this is funny?!" Phil nearly shrieked. "I looked up your 'dental surgery' Dan! It's not even at an actual office—just some dodgy back-alley shop. You're seeing someone else, aren't you?" he demanded.

"Wait, you seriously think-" Dan cut himself by laughing and had to pause while Phil glared at him. "Phil," he tried again, wiping his eyes with the corner of his cape. "God, no. I'm not seeing anyone else, I swear."

"Then what is it?"

Dan sighed deeply and gestured to the chair across from him, indicating Phil should sit down. His partly confused, partly enraged flatmate complied. "Alright, I guess we should start at the beginning. Remember when I got bitten by that bat back in June?" He trailed his little finger across the plate, and then licked the bright red sauce off of it.

"Yeah…" Phil said slowly. "But what does that have to do with-"

"Phil, think about it. I was bitten by a bat. I wear a cape. I sleep in a coffin."

"But you said that was for your-"

"I know what I said," Dan cut him off, "but what I'm saying now is that I might've… sort of lied. Just a bit. To protect you."

"To protect me?"

"Yes! It's kinda hard to predict how your boyfriend will react when you tell him you've turned into a supernatural creature!"

Now it was Phil's turn to go silent as something finally clicked in his brain. "Oh my god. You… You're a… a-"

But before he could get the word out, a familiar feeling rushed over Phil and he dropped to floor with a cry, pain shooting through his body.

"Phil!" Dan yelped, dropping his knees worriedly. "What's happening? You alright?" He reached out a hand to put it on his boyfriend's shoulder, but Phil jumped back with a deep growl. Dan hissed sharply in return.

"Stay back! Don't touch me!" Phil growled. He covered his face with his hands and groaned. "Oh god… What day is it?"

Dan frowned. "Uh… Thursday?"

"No, I meant in the lunar cycle!" Phil snapped back. Another wave of unbearable pain hit him and his muscles contracted violently, curling his body into a tight ball on the floor.

"Well how should I know?" Dan exclaimed. "Seriously, are you alright? Do you need a hospital or something?"

"No!" Phil let out a yelp of pain as his body twisted in the opposite direction again. "Just tell me… is it," he panted, "or is it not… a full moon?"

Frowning again, Dan stood and moved to the window to pull back the curtain.

"Dan! No!" Phil screamed. But it was too late. As Dan pulled open the curtains, moonlight flooded into the room through the unveiled glass. His body jerked roughly as the transformation began.

Within seconds, Phil's fingernails changed into lethal-looking claws. He dragged them across the floor in apparent agony as his body spasmed again. Then, his teeth changed, growing down, long and sharp, ready to tear someone in two. Dan watched in horror as Mr. Phil I've-been-trying-to-grow-a-beard-since-year-eight Lester suddenly sprouted sideburns spanning the entire length of his jawline before shooting Dan a glance with his glowing yellow eyes, throwing back his head, and letting out a howl.

Too stunned to speak, Dan merely backed trembling into the corner, hissing and holding his cape around himself as if it were a shield.

The transformation complete, Phil grinned a little sheepishly from his new wolf-like form. "Right. So while we're on the subject of secrets, there's something I've been meaning to tell you too…"

* * *

 **A/N:** This fic is essentially a public service announcement about the dangers of keeping your loved ones in the dark regarding life-altering conditions, as so often is the case in fanfiction (aka every mental illness fic ever). It's also a bit of a crack fic. Take it as you will.


End file.
